


Honey and Lemon

by artemis_in_space



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fluff, I love geralt, I wa planning a longer story, Reader is baby, but I haven't been able to finish anything for about 2 year now?, but for now I hope you enjoy it, i'm weak, nervous reader, not a child but like the meme, so if I can manage it there'll be a part two, typical 'witcher shows up at your house nearly dead and you take care of him' goodness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:26:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25054606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artemis_in_space/pseuds/artemis_in_space
Summary: "Had I not lived on the edge of town, closer to the forest lining our borders than to the lines of homes and stores and trade smiths, had I not learned from a young age that the simplest way to live was to provide for yourself rather then let others provide for you and be constantly in debt, and had I not been the kind of person to believe a kind hand would almost always trump an angry fist, I may never have even crossed paths with Geralt of Rivia.However, who am I to decide what fate has in store? So it must have been fate that he stumbled towards my garden towing a beautiful horse behind him, coming through the thicket of trees, covered in blood and muck."- Literally just the beginning of the story cause I couldn't think of a summary.Edit : 16 Jan '21The story was originally a one-shot, but is now being updated (slowly) as a story. You can still read chapter 1 by itself if you don't want to wait :)
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Original Female Character(s), Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Reader
Comments: 5
Kudos: 102





	1. Honey and Lemon Tea

Had I not lived on the edge of town, closer to the forest lining our borders than to the lines of homes and stores and trade smiths, had I not learned from a young age that the simplest way to live was to provide for yourself rather then let others provide for you and be constantly in debt, and had I not been the kind of person to believe a kind hand would almost always trump an angry fist, I may never have even crossed paths with Geralt of Rivia. 

However, who am I to decide what fate has in store? So it must have been fate that he stumbled towards my garden towing a beautiful horse behind him, coming through the thicket of trees, covered in blood and muck. 

He collapsed not soon after, thankfully close enough to my house that I was able to drag him over on an old sheet, thankful again that I kept my land in neat enough order that I wasn’t dragging him over rocks and sticks as opposed to the soft soil and grass. He made barely a sound as I did, and I managed to move him onto the long bench I sat on when I felt like eating my meals outside. It wasn’t the most comfortable place, but there was no way I’d be able to get the man though to my bedroom, much less onto my bed, so it would make do for now.

I ran inside to get some bandages and put a pot of water on the stove to warm it and boil out any impurities, then grabbed some herbs from my garden. I had some leftover salve from the last time I’d cut myself bad enough to need it, but it was nowhere near enough to cover all the cuts on this guy. After the water had boiled, I poured some into a mortar and ground the herbs into a paste, enough to at least help. It wasn’t anything special, and he’d likely still need to visit a healer, but it would make do for now. The rest of the water had cooled enough by the time my makeshift salve was done, so I threw in a clean rag and brought it all back outside.

He… already looked to be healing a bit, but healing was no good if you end up with an infection. I put all the things down and got to work cleaning each wound before the water grew cold, the worst I could see was close to his neck and was bleeding the quickest. I couldn’t lift him to wrap and bandage around it, so I folded a few over and pressed against it, hoping it would clot soon, and continued to do what I could with my other hand. Some of the smaller cuts had already healed, so I focused on the bigger ones once he was wiped down. Salve was applied, anywhere I could manage to reach was wrapped in a clean bandage, and soon enough, he was looking a lot better.

It was then I remembered his horse, if you’re that beat up and still able to remember to bring it with you, it must be important. Surprisingly, when I turned, the horse was in the same place, happily chewing at the long grass in an older, now unused section of land. I smiled. Made my job easier at least.

The horse was incredibly clam, despite circumstances and as I grabbed it reins, it seemed happy to follow. I tied it up to the furthermost post of my little veranda, close to its owner. It was well cared for, and obviously a well-loved companion.

I paused a moment, looking at him, properly, for the first time. He was huge. He could very easily break me in half, should he desire and the thought came very quickly; I really, really hope that he isn’t horrible, or that he at least is grateful enough that I tried to help that he doesn’t hurt me. His horse sniffed at the grass behind me, and it somewhat relaxed me. If someone can take well enough care of his horse, surely he isn’t the kind of person to rip apart someone who would try and help him.

..

But just to be sure, I’ll check his bandages once more and then go inside and lock the door.

——————

The last thing I expected to find after waking, was the face of a young woman leaning over me gently rewrapping a bandage around my arm. Had she not been the least intimidating creature I’d ever seen, I might have flinched away, reached for my swords, something to that degree. However, the fact that she jumped at the mere act of me opening my eyes, I figured I was probably safe for the moment. In a less than a minute she was through a door, the sound of a lock sliding on the other side, and a thud, likely her back, hitting it as she hit the floor.

My cuts hurt less then I thought they would, considering I barely made it to the next town before passing out. I also distinctly remembered hitting dirt as I fell, so the fact that I was now laying on a bench, a pillow under my head and Roach tied to a post less than a few steps away was strange, but somewhat of a relief. I also remember being much, much dirtier, at the very least I expected blood to have soaked through my shirt, but the damage was mainly contained to the initial cuts. As I sat up, a small pile of bandages clung to my shoulder, and I noticed a rag, newly covered in blood and dirt hanging over the edge of a pot of water on the ground next to me.

Definitely not a threat then.

I could hear her heartbeat start to slow down and she took some calming breaths from behind the door. After a moment, she seemed to realise I wasn’t saying anything.

“Uh, my name is (y/n), you passed out in my garden. You’re in Glowan.” She seemed to stutter her words a bit, but at least I had an idea of where I was. Small town, just north of Verden, just south of Cintra, I’d only passed through once before and hadn’t stopped.

“You patched me up?” I called, just loud enough for her to hear.  
“Yes.” Still nervous.

“You have my thanks.” I barely said it loud enough to matter, but if this was like any other town, any other person, she’d want me gone, coin, or a favour. Sure enough, she stood and slowly, the door slid open, her face only half visible through the crack she made.

“Are you ok? I’m no healer, but the salve should work well enough for you to reach one. I’d offer to take you, but you’ve a horse, and he’s sure to get you there faster then I’d be able to.” I scoffed, but couldn't stop a smile for a moment.

“She.”

“Pardon?”

“She, my horse. Her name is Roach.”

“Oh.” The door opened just a fraction wider. “She’s lovely.”

“She is.” I turned back to her, usual cold expression back. “I won’t need a healer, what you’ve done is enough. Was there anything you wanted in return?” Annoyance or not, she did try to save my life, and much lessened the ache of waking up bleeding out on the dirt as my body tried to keep up the healing process. That much at least deserved to have a request listened to.

Her face scrunched up, much like a child considering a day's chores.

“Um, just,” here we go “could you pass me that pot please?”

…

Not what I was expecting, but maybe she needs a second to consider it. I handed her the bucket, to which she finally left the doorway to pour its contents off to the side into the soil, then quickly made her way back inside.

“Thank you. Um, have a good day.” The door shut fully, the lock not sliding in this time though. I heard her make her way through the room, the sound of metal against stone, and then her footsteps headed much faster towards the door again. I hadn’t so much as taken a step, but she looked as though she were ready to call down the road, or collapse in a heap at the doorway.

“You wouldn’t kill me or hurt me would you?” I’d normally be very, very offended. I could already feel the usual knot building in my chest. And yet, she looked so scared of asking, rather than of the possible answer, I couldn’t find a reason to get truly mad.

“Do people usually threaten you after you help them?” Maybe a bit harsher then I wanted to sound.

“Well, no. But I’ve never met you. I’ve no clue who you are nor how you ended up bloody and collapsed at my home. I- I figured I should at least ask.” She doesn’t know who I am. Her face was red, her hands in knots around her skirt and she looked so nervous about asking what could be the dumbest question I’d ever heard, I couldn’t hold back the snicker that came out.

“No, I wouldn’t harm you. You’re safe.” I turned to leave but heard her grip the doorframe, nervous, and call out.

“I was just about to have lunch if you’d like to join me.”

——————

Oh, Gods. Oh fuck. Why?? Did I invite him to lunch? People can lie you know? I know if I were about to kill someone I wouldn’t say ‘oh yes, I am going to kill you now, thanks for the bandages.’

He looked as though he were holding back a laugh. Ok. Maybe murder people don’t hold back laughing when someones having a nervous breakdown in front of them. This is fine. All fine.

“It’s uh.” oh gods I’m talking again. “It’s nothing special. Just tomato and lettuce sandwiches and tea.” His shoulders slumped and he hung his head, hiding his face.

“You don’t have to if you’ve somewhere to be.” I was whispering by now.

Who invites strangers into their home for lunch after accusing them of possibly having the intent to hurt you and finding them half dead and oh fuck- “Sure, why not?” oh.

The reason I’d seen him in the first place was the large ripe tomato currently sitting on my kitchen bench, a loaf of bread I’d cooked during the morning sitting beside it and a head of lettuce in a saucer of water in the cooler part of my kitchen. I’d left the door open for him to follow me through and began slicing the bread and tomato, arranging it all easily while a fresh pot of water boiled.

I put the sandwiches on plates and turned to see he’d made himself comfortable at my table. He thanked me as I placed them down then returned once again with two mugs of honey and lemon tea.

The first few minutes were quiet, both of us just digging into our lunch. Every time I glanced up, he was staring at me, completely focused on what I was doing, and to say it unnerved me was an understatement. The first few times, I ducked my head and went back to eating, but after realising he wasn’t going to stop, I stared back, but then that got just as awkward, and I broke the silence.

“My name is (y/n), by the way.” His lips flicked up for a moment.

“Yes, you told me through the door after you ran inside.”

“Right…” It went back to the silence. “What’s your name?”

His eyes studied me a moment and I wondered if he was even going to answer. He finished his sandwich and reached for his cup.

“Geralt.”

“It’s nice to meet you Geralt.”

There’s something about knowing a name that brings a certain amount of peace or fear. If you know a name, and they turn around to hurt you, you have a name to give to a guard, whereas if they help you, you have a name to give your thanks. If you met someone, gave them your name, asked for theres and they stayed silent, you would likely draw to the conclusion that they were there to bring you harm, and either thought it unnecessary to give a name to a corpse, or to at least hide their identity from a victim.

At least, that was the logic I was going to use to convince myself that bringing a stranger into my home was a good idea. It was the way I would calm myself enough to start a proper conversation.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what happened to you?” He huffed.

“Got into a fight with a group of gho- with a group of highwaymen, I made it out the other side, they didn’t.” He grimaced and gently touched the wound on his shoulder, checking it over before returning to his tea.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go to the healer? You were in very bad shape when you collapsed.”

“I’m fine. I heal quicker then most.” He looked around my kitchen, sniffed the air and then looked back to me. “You made the salve yourself?”

“I- yes. My Grandfather was a druid, and the craft was passed down to my mother, and then what she could teach me before she died a few years back. We never got very far into my lessons. I didn’t think they were important at the time, then she got sick and I wanted to learn what I could if only to make it easier on her when she passed.”

“Hm. It’s good quality regardless, she must have been a good teacher.” I beamed at the compliment to my mother.

“She certainly was.”

Geralt went stiff for a moment, his eyes widened a little before he coughed and stood up.

“Thank you for your help, and for lunch. It was very nice. I imagine there's an inn in town?”

“Yes, there is, though it may be a little more expensive then what you’re used to, as we’re so far away from anywhere else. If you find it too high for you and Roach, you’re welcome to leave her here.” A single eyebrow shot up, he looked half-amused, half sceptical. “Of course, you’re probably well off. I- I mean I would never imply that you weren’t, just that. I- um. She seems very well behaved. And she’d be safe here. And you’re welcome to stay as well of course. But we just met and you might find that weird. Never mind forget I said anything I’m so sorry.”

By the end of my rant I’d grabbed everything from the table and put it in the sink just so my hands had something to do, and my eyes could have a break from the increasingly amused look on Geralt’s face. The corner next to my kitchen sink is where I ended up when I realised Geralt had walked around the table to my side, and he was now standing a meter away from me, just staring.

“I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you.” It was all he said before he stood waiting for me to move, so I shot my hand out in front of me and held it there for him to shake.

“It was lovely to meet you Geralt.” I watched, heart hammering in my chest as he brought the hand to his lips and smiled.

“Lovely to meet you too, (y/n).” And then he was gone.


	2. Lemonade with Honey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Just wanted to say a huge thanks for all the comments and kudos on chapter 1! You guys are awesome and really encouraged me to continue writing this story.
> 
> Just wanna give a heads up to anyone who doesn't want to read a story like this, the (y/n) in my story does not want kids, and that's going to play a part later in the story (towards the end but still), so if you're not cool with that, I get if you want to stop reading, and I thank you for the support up til now.
> 
> Also, I am super Ace/Aro, so I don't think they'll be any smutty scenes, even though I wish I had the capability to write them, I have tried before, and it just came out fluff. At most (and no promises) there might be a hint of it if I find a place for it in the story I want to write.
> 
> I have no idea when chapter 3 will be out, due to me writing very slow as it is, and starting TAFE soon. But who knows, I may end up writing faster to procrastinate homework.
> 
> I really hope you guys keep enjoying this!! Keep leaving comments (if you want to, no pressure) they mean a lot to me <3

Geralt truly did not mean to be making his way back to the small house sitting on the edge of town. The butcher in Glowan had hired him to kill a werewolf who was constantly breaking in and eating all of his produce. It had been near the end of Spring when he had left the last time, and it was midsummer now. The sun was hot this year and he was low on work because most towns had low harvest due to the lack of rain, which meant a lack of funds to pay him with.

The last time he had passed through, work had been good and he’d been able to pay the innkeeper for board and meals, this time however he barely had enough to pay for stable room for Roach. While he was usually content to sleep outside when funds were low, he found himself being drawn to the strange woman who had offered him lunch the last time he’d passed through.

Which was how, he supposed, he ended up standing outside her door.

With a sigh, he knocked.

———————

It had been about a month and a half since I had met Geralt. I honestly never expected to see him again, so when I opened my door to see him looming over me looking rather tense, I was quite surprised. He coughed like he was clearing his throat and gave a weak smile.

“Geralt, hi.”

“Hello (Y/n).”

“What can I do for you? You look much less bloody than last time I saw you.” I gave a weak laugh after, not sure if I should be joking about it or not. I only knew him a few hours after all, and he never came back before he left last. Thankfully he smiled and seemed to relax a bit.

“Sorry to drop in on you like this. Last time I was here you offered a room for Roach, I was hoping the offer still stands?”

“Of course! Is this your first night in town then?” I moved outside, gently ushering him out the way so I could walk him to the stable. Roach was tied to the same post as the last time and he untied her as we walked past.

“Yes, just in for a night for a job. We’ll be on our way tomorrow.”

“Oh? What job?”

“The butcher has a… pest control problem.”

“You work in pest control?” I laughed and turned to face him as I pulled the stable doors open.

“You find that hard to believe?”

“Well, yes? I didn’t know pest control required so much armour. Or swords. I thought you’d be a bodyguard or a knight or something to that degree.” He scoffed at that last part.

“A knight? What made you think that.”

“Well you’re just quite… large… and I picture knights to be quite charming and you kissed my.. my hand last time. And the swords of course..” I could feel a blush grow on my cheeks. Why do I ever start talking? Gods, living alone makes me terrible at this kind of thing. “Look I’ve never met a knight ok? Just ignore me.”

By this point, Roach was in the stable waiting patiently as I carried a hay-bail over to her and Geralt was… well the closest thing I could tell was that he was looking at me with amusement. I’d barely taken it two steps when Geralt walked over and picked the hay out of my arms, lifting the thing onto one shoulder with ease and smirked. 

“Large and charming hey?” I wanted to smack him, but instead just stuck my tongue out and walked away.

“I’ll be at my house! You can come in when you decide to stop making fun of me.” I was only a few steps out when I remembered. “Also there's water in the stored in the barrel near the hay! Make sure you get Roach some!” And continued to stomp away.

I had spent the morning making salves for the local healer and was about to get started on lunch when Geralt knocked. He was certainly strong enough to get the water by himself, and despite the short time I’d known him, I trusted him, so I trusted him to walk around my property unaccompanied.

I made my way back to my house but bypassed the door and rounded the corner to the lemon tree. The thing was covered in fruit, which was lucky as I would need more thanks to the unexpected guest. I picked about 10 and carried them back to the house, cut them in half and squeezed all the juice into a pitcher I’d swapped for a basket of apples at the tavern. I boiled a bit of water and scooped 3 spoonfuls of honey into the hot water and stirred it together.

“Need any help?”

“Fuck!” I swear to the Gods that man is quieter than a mouse, how he ended up behind me without me hearing him I’ll never know. 

In my shock, I’d turned too fast and nearly lost the contents of the jug to the shirt of the man behind me. Fortunately, years of being quite useless at holding onto things or walking without hitting everything as I went gave me faster reflexes then I used to have and the jug and its contents stayed quite safely in my hands, and, as I came to realise, me in his. I must have given the impression I was about to fall backwards as his hands were steading my waist, but quickly released me when I was back on two feet.

“Thanks, but also please, please announce yourself before you appear right behind me?” I laughed, very aware that apparently I’d be blushing for the majority of the time Geralt was around. He smirked.

“Of course, my apologies m’lady.” He bowed slightly and I caught onto the act immediately.

“Gods! Enough with the knight act! I said to come in after you stopped making fun of me.” That earned another soft laugh and I found I liked the sound.

“Sorry. Can I help with anything?”

“Move the table?” He looked confused but complied without any questions. Once he did I kneeled down to where a square wooden door was ‘hidden’ under where one of the legs had been and walked down into the partially hidden cellar. Geralt still stood at the door so I called up to him.

“Any requests for lunch? Something cold would be preferred for a day like today, but your choice.” I asked while riffling through creates of food, grabbing a few things I’d be able to keep upstairs during the week so I didn’t need to move anything to come down again.

“Do you have any ham? Or chicken, I’m not fussed really.”

“Are you ok with sandwiches again?”

“Anythings better than nothing.” I laughed at that.

“You’re not wrong there. Ok, ham sandwiches it is. Here, take these.” I passed up the few things I was holding then went back to find things for the sandwiches. After passing that up I asked he get the pitcher of lemon juice and a ladle.

In the far corner of the storeroom was a set of large clay jugs with wax stoppers down the length. They were filled with previously boiled water and left to cool in the jugs over the course of a week. Still not the purest of quality, but none of the people that had drunk it had come back later to complain about sickness, and it had worked for our family for years. I pulled one of the stoppers out, the next down from ones previously pulled and loosely replaces to prevent bugs crawling in, but so I’d know which to pull next. Water poured into the pitcher for a time then trickled off, so I replaced the stopper as I had all the ones above it and walked back upstairs to stir in the hot honey.

Geralt was sniffing the air when I appeared again and looked at the jug.

“What’s that?”

“Cold lemon honey tea.”

“Cold? Won’t the water be bad?” I explained the process to him and poured a cup.

“Huh. Smart.”

It was quiet while I made the sandwiches, but not awkward like I thought it would be. Geralt sat patiently at my recently moved back table, looking content to wait. He asked again if I wanted any help and at this point, I felt like I was going to have to find something to do or risk him walking behind me forever, desperate to do something.

I had to admit it was… nice, to have company not looking for a salve, herb or vegetable. I hadn’t had many friends growing up, and the ones I did have either worked long hours or moved away, leaving little time to catch up. I’d lived here alone since my mother died and had grown all but used to the fact that it was likely I’d live alone forever. Having Geralt hover around was comforting in a way I wasn’t used to.

“So you’ll be stopping in the inn again I take it?” I walked back over to the table, a plate in each hand and put his down in front of him before sitting across from him, just like the last time I saw him.

“No, I plan on making camp in the woods behind the butcher shop.” I stopped and stared at him.

“What?”

“I’m going to camp behind the-” I cut him off.

“No, sorry. I got that. Why? You do know the inn is open for business?” He smirked, looking into his drink.

“Yes, I do. But you were right last time I came through. The inn-keep basically commits robbery at those prices, and I can’t afford it right now. Besides, I am used to camping, it’s no trouble.”

“…No.” Why am I like this?

“No what?” He was still smirking a little, but now obviously confused.

“No. You don’t have to camp outside, you can stay here.” Well done (y/n), you are very good at keeping yourself out of danger. It is completely safe to invite a person you have met once into your home and ask them to stay the night. Especially a stranger who put two very heavy looking swords to rest against your table. Truly a work of genius.

Obviously Geralt noticed my internal struggle, as he was already refusing.

“Geralt, please. You cannot ask me to house your horse, but leave you to sleep in the bush. Stay.”

“Really I don’t mind.” I wasn’t having it apparently, as I had stood up and picked up his (I was wrong) two shockingly light swords, and begun carrying them to the guest room. Geralt was already up and behind me, hand on my shoulder. I spun round to look up at him as he talked.

“(y/n), I’d appreciate it if you didn’t take my things.” I was stuck for words for a moment. Gods was he tall. He towered over me without meaning to, and I was just stuck there, clutching his swords to my chest like some idiot. He seemed to realise what he had, albeit unintentionally, been doing and took a step back.

“Sorry.” He barely spoke, but the closeness of it made it clear enough. I took the strangeness of the moment to hand him his swords, but move to the far door and open it.

“Stay. You need a room, and I have a spare bed.” I took a short, shaky breath at the sudden intensity of his eyes. “Stay.”

Geralt walked over to me, every step feeling heavier than the last before finally, he stood in front of me again.

“I’ll stay. Thank you.” I must have looked terrified, because he ruffled my hair, messing it up, and then walked into the spare room. I was left standing in the doorway, face red and hair in every direction.

“Alright then.”

—————

The rest of the day was mostly uneventful with the small exception of Geralt insisting on helping me gather the rest of the ready crop, which included mostly strawberries, spring onions and turnips (all of the turnips went straight to market), and with the extra help, we were done before the sun had even begun to set.

I gave a small hamper of pickled and dried foods to Geralt. Not too much that it would burden him, but enough that he would at least have a night off from hunting whatever he could find as he camped. He refused, of course, but I had resolved to put it in one of the pockets on Roaches' saddle when he went to the butchers tonight.

I did think it strange that he would go to an extermination job at night, but after thinking about it (and asking) I was reminded that most vermin were active at night, so it would be easy to tell where they came from. Plus, I reasoned, the butcher probably wouldn’t want it known that his business had been overrun. I was thankful I had brought and stored my meat months in advance.

It was late when Geralt left. He didn’t say much, as I expected, but did make me promise that I would stay inside all night and that if he was late home, I wouldn’t stay up waiting. I was never very good at keeping promises, but I would try to follow the first part. I snuck out a few minutes after Geralt left to put the food in with Roach, then ran back to my house, feeling a lot like a child who had snuck out without permission. A howl coming from the trees near town made me move faster and before long I was safely back in my home, deciding after such a day, I deserved a warm drink and a big meal. Cheese scones with butter and salad were on the menu for tonight. I made enough for two, just in case Geralt was hungry when he returned and covered his plate with a lid from my largest pot. I was worried I would fall asleep before he got back, he gave the impression of someone who would work all night, so I found a scrap of paper and wrote his name on it, adding a small smiling face as an afterthought, and held it down with the lid.

Dinner was delicious as usual. Living alone with such easy access to basically any food gave me a good handle on my cooking skills, and I had come up with enough recipes to keep my palate entertained. After cleaning up, I retreated to my room with my tea to pick up where I had left off my book. It was a dreadful romance book, the main heroine bland and average in every way, the hero stoic and annoying, but I had been reading it since I was 14, back before I realised that it wasn’t a healthy relationship, and rather idealised, and I loved rereading it every time. I was just about done, and I thought I might be able to finish it tonight.

I mustn’t have realised just how tired I was though, as soon after finishing my drink, I had fallen asleep.

————————

When Geralt returned from the hunt, his sword was covered in blood while his armour stayed shockingly clean. A fact he was quite thankful for considering there was still light coming from the house of the woman who offered to house him for the night.

The werewolf had been young, but too far gone to remove the curse on, and the job was over before midnight. He remembered the water he’d gotten for Roach and figured that would do the trick to clean any blood he might track into the house, the swords could stay with Roach and they would be hidden until he could properly clean them.

He smelt it as soon as he walked into the barn and couldn’t help the smile spreading across his face as he peered into the once empty pocket at the food he’d refused earlier. He was disappointed that she hadn’t listened to him when he warned her to stay inside, but there had been no threat around her property (he checked before leaving) and he couldn’t be mad at her for that when he’d offered no explanation to why.

Upon entering the house, he first noticed her soft breathing from her room. Asleep then. The second thing was the covered plate sitting on the table, his name written in fresh ink, and the food left for him. Cheese scones, salad and a pile of ham slices. It was amazing.

Something in his chest tightened. Was he sick? Didn’t think that was possible for a Witcher. The food wasn’t poisoned… maybe he was just more exhausted from the fight then he thought. He cleaned up after himself, it was the least he could do considering he was given a place to sleep and food free of charge, but right after he heard a loud thud come from his hosts' room. He couldn’t hear any noises of distress, but couldn’t help checking on her to be sure.

After receiving no answer from knocking, he opened the door slightly. (Y/n)’s bed was next to the window against the far wall. Despite being a bedroom, the room gave the appearance of a small library or study. Every inch of the wall not holding her bed, dresser or bedside table housed a bookshelf lined with books and trinkets. It was obvious every one of her favourite possessions was inside the room, the other rooms of the house were decorated, sure, but this was like peering into the treasure chest of her brain. From what he could tell, any hobby or sentimental item was in the room, and it gave him more insight into her heart and personality than any conversation they’d had previous, making him realise that he wanted to hear about her interests right from her lips.

He heard a groan from the bed and turned to see her toss her blanket to the floor and then shiver. Geralt scoffed and walked over to pick it up. (Y/n) was curled up on her side, when she’d rolled over she had grabbed an old stuffed toy and was clutching it to her chest. After picking up the blanket, a book was reviled, the object obviously the thing that had made the thud earlier. He just smiled, tucked her back in, and placed the book on her nightstand.

The werewolf had kicked him in the chest at one point during the fight, so the tightness around his heart and stomach made sense, however coincidental that lining up with the hair he tucked behind her ear before leaving was.

——————

Geralt was set to leave early the next morning, and I woke to a clean kitchen and a fresh bowl of vegetables on my kitchen table. God knows how early he woke up to be able to do that. I had to admit, the sight of Geralt outside sweeping off my porch as the sun rose behind him stopped my breath for a second. The gentle but sudden domesticity of it was so lovely I was shocked at my own thoughts.

_I wish he’d stay._

No. Geralt travels. We hadn’t known each other long, but I had the feeling Geralt was not the type of man to stay in one place for too long. Besides, I’d be awful with a roommate, the second someone tried to reorganise or move things around I’d explode.

“Geralt, you really didn’t have to do all this, but thank you. I really appreciate it. Would you like breakfast? I know you said you wanted to leave early but surely a meal couldn’t hurt?” Geralt laughed.

“You know, I get the feeling that if I stayed here I’d never go hungry again, but no, I’ll be fine with the food you snuck into my pack.”

I flushed red and my eyes went wide with panic. Shit. He was meant to find that after he was already too far away to refuse it and would have to be begrudgingly grateful and have a good, healthy and well-balanced meal.

“I… have no idea what you’re talking about. You told me to stay inside so I did. All night.” He definitely did not believe me. “Yup.” I nodded once and averted my eyes. I was never that good at lying.

“Well, if you definitely didn’t leave the house after I told you not to and didn’t sneak the exact food that you offered yesterday into one of my pockets, I guess I must have packed extra food and just not have seen it until now.”

I nodded my head. “That sounds accurate, glad that’s settled.”

It was silent for a minute, Geralt just staring at me with these soft eyes that I just- _no._ Get a grip. I sighed.

“I guess you’ll be on your way now. I hope to see you again someday Geralt.” I turned to go back inside, giving him one last smile. He put the broom against the doorframe and grabbed my wrist.

“(Y/n).” _Stop._ “Thank you. I hope our paths cross again.” _Please stop, just go._ “You’ve been far too kind to me, and I wish you the best.”

Geralt’s lips were pressed softly to my cheek and I hadn’t even had the time to process his words. My throat was tight. My face was on fire. Geralt was smiling, and it just made it all the worse.

“Goodbye, (y/n).”

And he was gone again.


End file.
